Magical Midlife Madness (Leveling Up #1)(77)

Earl straightened up in front of her, put out his arms, and then snapped out his wings, spreading them wide. They no longer drooped. Muscles filled in his suddenly taut skin. Then swelled to the size they’d been in his prime. He bellowed and thumped his chest, fairly ridiculous.

Edgar straightened up and his eyes lit. His teeth became sharper. Whiter. Much cleaner. He poofed into a swarm of insects, flew ten feet, and materialized back into a vampire, running toward Austin. Midway there, he poofed back into insects, like a kid with a new toy. That was going to get annoying.

The ground bucked under Niamh’s hooves. A dark shadow rained from the sky, blotting out the moon. Blotting out the enemy’s magical light cascading down.

Except Niamh could see without a problem, and so could Austin, by the look of it. He took advantage of the enemy’s floundering, swiping away spears and clamping down on someone with his massive jaws. He stood, shook his head, then spat out the leftovers. His roar froze Niamh’s blood, and then an enormous swipe of his paw knocked out three enemies waving their hands in front of them, trying to see with their feelers.

Ivy House had woken up.

Screams emitted from inside. Glass broke on the second floor. Someone jumped out of a window. Another followed. Nets fired into the air from the third floor, catching one flier Niamh hadn’t even seen. The creature fell to the ground, struggling.

Another blast emitted from the house, this one from chest height all around the perimeter. Darts, tipped with poison or sleeping draught or who knew what. They sailed right through Niamh’s body as if she were a ghost, rematerializing on the other side. The same happened with Austin, Edgar, and Earl.

The invaders had no such luck. They reached around to touch their sudden wounds, confused. One by one, their knees weakened. They wobbled, reaching out for something to hold them upright. One by one, they hit the dirt.

The polar bear that was Austin Steele looked around in obvious confusion. He reduced down into a man, holding out his hands to look at them. Touching his body. He glanced up, and that’s when Niamh noticed the windows. Every one of them pulsed blue, deep and steady.

Jessie had assumed the role of Ivy House master. For better or worse, she now held that magic within her.





Thirty-One





“Oh man, I feel great. Like I could run a mile super fast.” I ran through the passageways, trying to get a feel for the situation inside the house. I had to get out to the others, but wasn’t sure which exit to take. I didn’t know how to use the magic yet, so I wasn’t ready to fight my way out. I still had to sneak.

I glanced through one of the viewing areas. Two legs lay on the ground, the head clearly near the wall and out of sight. Not moving. “Gross.”

The next two rooms were empty.

The whole house felt empty. I wasn’t sure how that could be. I’d felt the presence of intruders right after I’d grabbed that crystal and felt the really annoying tickling sensation. I hated being tickled.

But now…

The first floor was clear, so I powered up the stairs without even breaking a sweat. Young me would’ve been grinning like a lunatic. Midlife me was wondering about the butcher’s bill. What had I just traded for the ability to take stairs in a single bound?

More “tackled” people upstairs. Many more. And then I figured out why.

“No! Oh my God, no. No!” I scurried back from the viewing orb and paused for a steadying moment.

The dolls were alive. And they were apparently every bit as much of a nightmare as I’d suspected, carrying knives and smeared or splattered red.

“No, no. I should’ve made a stipulation about the dolls!”

I ran down the stairs again, crossing from one passageway into another, instinctively knowing them like the back of my hand, and exited the house from the same back door I’d gone in. I closed it up tight. I didn’t want those horrible dolls to get out.

The night was so dense it felt solid. No stars sparkled in the suddenly moonless sky. No light at all permeated the backyard. Somehow, however, I could still see.

Austin—the human version—stood amid a bunch of prone figures, patting his body like he wasn’t sure it was real. Niamh and Edgar huddled together, talking. Other than that, the battlefield lay eerily silent. The fallen did not move. There were no battle cries or moans to be heard.

My stomach churned. I understood what that meant for the enemy. Niamh had been right—the odds had been just fine after all. My crew was, quite clearly, utterly sensational. Age, to us, meant nothing at all. We could still kick ass and take names.

Except…

Fear bled into me. Mr. Tom was nowhere to be found.

I looked skyward, wondering if he was doing a sweep of the house. A winged shape sailed through the inky darkness, his wings strong and sure, beating at the air. His movements almost lazy. He wasn’t checking anything out, at all. From the swooping zigzags to the dips and climbs, it was clear he was joyriding.

A breath I hadn’t known I was holding released.

Moving fast—because I could!—I ran over to Edgar and Niamh, needing to double-check the status of things. Then ran around them. Then hopped up and down. And tinkled myself a little.

“Damn it!” I balled up my fists. “I forgot to ask about not peeing myself in everyday situations! That’s crap. That should’ve been a given.”